“It’s handled,” T.J. said.
“What’s handled?”
“Wells’s replacement starts on Monday. Some hot shot kid from the 34th.”
“How come I wasn’t informed?”
“Officially, there hasn’t been a formal announcement.”
“How did you find out?”
“I know people who know people. Remember?”
Dupree thought about that for a minute. “That still doesn’t solve my problem with the captain.”
T.J. winked. “That’s handled, too.”
“You’ve lost me, T.J.”
“While Ashley and you were bonding this weekend, I had a long chat with Jensen.”
“And?”
“I anticipated that Ashley and you would have a problem trying to see each other as often as possible. I also figured that you would make more trips west than she would east. I told the captain about your situation and believe it or not, he was really touched—said he’d do whatever he could to accommodate your vacation requests. Maybe he’s not as much of a hard ass as we both thought.”
She looked at T.J. with tears in her eyes. “I… I don’t know what to say.” Her voice was quivering. “Thank you so much.”
“Hey, if the situation was reversed, I know you’d do the same for me.”
Neither spoke for a long time.
“I still can’t believe that the captain agreed to be flexible with me on my vacation time.”
“Well,” T.J. said. “There is one more minor factor. I guess you could call it a motivator.” He let out a laugh. “I told him that if he didn’t work with you I would tell his wife that he’s smoking two packs of Camel’s a day and that he keeps a stash of Twinkies and M & M’s in his bottom drawer.”
Dupree laughed. She wasn’t sure about the last part of the story, but really didn’t care. As long as she could see Ashley as often as possible, nothing else mattered. “I think what you did is called blackmail.”
“Actually, it’s called salesmanship.”
Neither uttered a sound, but their eyes met. Dupree saw a look on his face that she’d never seen before. His eyes seemed to sparkle with a profound intensity.
He moved toward her.
Dupree didn’t quite know how to react; she sat frozen, studying him closely.
T.J. closed his eyes and tenderly kissed her lips. It was not a passionate or lustful kiss. It was brief but gentle. Dupree didn’t respond to his gesture, but she also did nothing to stop him.
She felt paralyzed, her mind plagued with confusion and disbelief.
“I am so sorry, Amaris,” T.J. said. “That was so inappropriate of me. I deeply apologize. I just don’t know what came over me. I guess it was just… the moment. My emotions are a little unstable right now. Please forgive me. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
Dupree didn’t know what to think. She glanced at T.J. but his head was turned away from her, as if he was too embarrassed to look at her. Her mind was overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. She wasn’t sure what she felt.
“T.J.”
He turned his head.
When she looked into his eyes, they told her everything she needed to know. No more confusion. No more doubts. “What if I want it to happen again?”
EPILOGUE
August 1
This was Dr. Mason’s third trip to David Taylor’s mansion on the isle of Anguilla. The CEO of Ritter-Stone Pharmaceuticals and Dr. Mason met in Taylor’s private den, both enjoying an espresso.
“It surprised me when I found out about Adelman, Gallo, and Hansen.” Taylor said. “Who knew they would be so careless?”
“It sure shocked me,” Mason said. “But it did create quite an opportunity for you.”
“As the cliché goes, ‘Their loss is my gain’.”
“You’ll be happy to know,” Mason said, “that my brilliant attorneys found a loophole around the price cap in Horizon’s operating charter.” He grinned. “I don’t quite understand all the legal technicalities, but basically, all we have to do is inflate our expenses and limit production and we can charge whatever we damn-well-want for the drugs and treatments.”
“That’s great news, Ed. I’ve always been fonder of the word, ‘billion’, than ‘million’.”
“I know that verbally we’ve worked out the details of the partnership,” Mason said. “But when will the contracts be ready?”
Taylor slid a manila folder across the table. “You’ll probably want your attorneys to review these documents.” Taylor winked. “Except for the matter of the incentive we agreed upon, which of course can’t be in writing, everything should be in order.”
“I’ll let my legal counsel scrutinize the fine print. All I want to know is when do I get the ten million?”
“As soon as everything is approved by the FDA,” Taylor said, “and we begin production and distribution.”
“And how long might that be?”
“That depends on how long it takes for us to complete all the research and submit the application to the FDA. Educated guess? About a year. Crawford will be a tough act to follow. And without Gallo, it will present a few challenges. But my team has meticulously studied the data and we feel confident that soon we’re going to make the cover of Journal of the American Medical Association.”
“So, just in the spirit of goodwill, do I get an advance?”
“Afraid not, Ed. Not a penny until we’re up and running. And you’d better hope that nobody applies to the FDA before we do.”
“Trust me. No one’s even close.”
Mason picked up the folder. “I’ll have these contracts back to you by the end of the week.”
Just as Mason was about to open the door and leave, Taylor said, “I do have one question, Ed. Why didn’t Adelman, Gallo, or Hansen implicate you to get lighter sentences?”
“We thought it best to keep Hansen in the dark. Although she served her purpose, she was high-strung and unpredictable, so we led her to believe that I was as pure as the driven snow.”
“But what about Gallo and Adelman? Why didn’t they finger you?”
Mason’s facial expression hardened. “I guess they kept their mouths shut because they love their families and wouldn’t want anything terrible to happen to them.”
February 21
Utterly shocked, Dr. Edward Mason watched the CNN special report, his hands moist and clammy, and his heart pounding out of his chest.
“Breaking News from CNN’s Chief Medical Correspondent, Sanjay Gupta. This may be the most astounding announcement in medical history. Century Nutritional Clinic located in Tijuana, Mexico, in partnership with Summit Laboratories, the third largest pharmaceutical company in the world, have just announced that the FDA has tentatively approved a revolutionary new treatment for cancer, rumored to be nothing short of miraculous. Pending a series of routine tests, none of which are expected to jeopardize the approval, they project that the drugs and treatments will be made available worldwide by the end of the year.
Many of you may remember Dr. Lauren Crawford, the brilliant research scientist who pioneered the research but tragically was murdered…”
Mason turned off the TV, and slammed the remote against the wall.
“Even from the grave, you got the best of me, Lauren.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As is the case with almost every book ever written, there are a lot of people behind the scenes who transform an idea from vision to reality. In many cases, readers give the credit to the author, but there are many others to recognize. I would like to thank the following people for their invaluable contribution to Hypocrisy.